


Blossom

by Kurai Himitsu (Taskuhecate)



Category: Fruits Basket, Fruits Basket - Takaya Natsuki (Manga)
Genre: Contest Entry, Crossdressing, Don’t copy to another site, M/M, Opposites Attract, Poor thing, Prompt: Blossom, Ritsu is such a ball of anxiety, Romance, furubabang2019, winner of furubabang2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-18
Updated: 2019-05-18
Packaged: 2020-03-07 05:20:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18866542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taskuhecate/pseuds/Kurai%20Himitsu
Summary: They say that clothes make the man.





	Blossom

**Author's Note:**

> Well! It's only been. . .what? Thirteen years? Nine? But just maybe Kurai Himitsu is back. :3 The new anime has sparked my inspiration again, possibly. We'll see!
> 
> In any case, this is my submission for the Fruits Basket Tumblr Server fanwork contest. Come join us! EDIT: It won!
> 
> I hope you enjoy it!

It was frightfully easy to lose track of time when focusing on a project and projects always seemed to _consume_ Ayame - nearly to the detriment of everything else. This time it was sleep that had fallen by the wayside as he’d sat hunched over the pool of lavender fabric on his lap. By the time he looked up, golden eyes blurry from such intense focus on so fine of detail work, he could see the sunrise beginning to pain the shop window with a warm orange glow. His guest would arrive soon, then. Despite his exhaustion, the thought sent a brief thrill through his stomach.

How silly of him. Best not to get ahead of oneself, he chided.

He set aside the garment and got to his feet, stretching, a broad yawn escaping him as he did. This called for tea. Evan as tired as he was, even with his own internal warnings, he couldn’t keep the smile from his lips entirely as he set about setting the tea to steep. He’d only just finished when he caught what may have been the sound of a faint knock on the shop door.

Ah! Just in time!

Abandoning the teapot and empty cups, he swept into the main shop feeling as though he were breathing mountain air. He unlocked the door and threw it open wide. “Ah, Ricchan!” he cried, trying to rein in his enthusiasm a bit so as not to startle the monkey. “You’ve arrived! Come in, come in!”

Judging by the way, Ritsu flinched, he’d failed. Still, the younger man forced an uncertain yet genuine smile as he stepped into the shop. “H-Hatori-niisan said you wanted to. . .to s-see me?” His voice was soft, quiet.

Ayame’s smile softened a little in the face of the monkey’s nerves and he busied himself locking up the shop again in an effort to hide it. He would have to watch his volume - Yuki had explained to him once that his loud energy could be off-putting, though he’d never noticed it from Ritsu. Still when he turned around to face the monkey again, he made a conscious effort to lower his volume. “Indeed! Follow me!”

He lead the younger man back to the dressing rooms, grabbing a small pile of clothes as he did. He gestured grandly to the door of the dressing room, holding out the clothing to Ritsu as he did. “Haa-san and Gure-san have informed me that you, my dear Ricchan, are in need! They say you suffer from a lack of kingly confidence that is so innate to my very being - I cannot allow such a travesty to go unattended!”

Already he could see Ritsu’s fawn eyes widen, his pale lips beginning to tremble as he clutched the sleeves of his furisode near his chest. Ayame pressed on, hoping to head off an outburst of apologies.

“Thus I have procured for your singular body clothes that will make you the most stunning of beings - besides myself - and as such cause confidence enough to blossom in you that it overflows and drowns the common folk in awe!” He pushed the clothes into Ritsu’s hands, spinning the overwhelmed monkey, and giving him a light push towards the dressing room.

For a moment Ayame waited with bated breath as Ritsu glanced back. The younger man swallowed nervously and gave a small nod before stepping into the dressing room like a man on his way to the gallows. It made something in Ayame’s chest ache, such a painfully beautiful picture the monkey presented. For a moment, as he dropped down onto the couch, he wondered if this really was the best for Ritsu, even if it had been at Shigure and Hatori’s insistence.

Recently he’d become aware of the way the younger man idolized him, began to really notice how he was never far away at family functions. It was endearing - and in some sense, terrifying, It was almost as though he could hear that nameless girl again, cursing her own “foolishness”. The memory that other people’s feelings were like a fragile candle in his hands. . . The ache sharpened into that cold fear, like knives in his lungs, and he forced down a few breaths. He was learning - he wouldn’t make the same mistakes, wouldn’t have Ritsu’s timid voice join that girl’s.

The sound of the door opening brought him out of his thoughts and he plastered a bright expectant smile across his lips like too-red lipstick. At first the door only opened a crack, the monkey using the door like a shield against criticism. Then slowly the crack widened and Ritsu emerged, eyes fixed on the ground, shoulders pulled up and fingers twisting themselves with nerves. For a long moment, neither seemed capable of speech.

It passed and Ayame clapped his hands together, jumping up from the couch. “Ah, c’est magnifique! Comme c’est un très bel amour! Jamais je n’ai vu un amour si beau!” He thought he caught a look of confusion on Ritsu’s face but he didn’t dwell - such looks were common on others. Instead he busied himself giving the outfit a last once over with a critical tailor's eye.

The clothes he’d given the younger man fit well, thought not perfect. He’d had Ritsu’s measurements for years to make the ceremonial costumes for the New Years banquets, though it had been seven or so years since he’d last made one for the monkey - not to mention that this was certainly a different kind of ensemble: a fine pair of slacks, smart long-sleeved button-up made of silk, the sky-blue shade chosen to best accentuate Ritsu’s honey hair and fawn eyes when paired with the dark purple waistcoat that perfectly fit his lithe form. He’d left the black suit jacket to try later.

As he circled the younger man, he checked the hem length on the pants, tsking as he realized he’d have to let it out a bit more - it seemed Ritsu had gained a bit of height since he’d last taken the measurements. His eyes flicked to the sleeves and saw the same issue there. Ah, no matter - an easy enough fix. He pinched at a few of the seams, checking that they were tight enough, tugged the sleeves, checked the inseam all in a flurry of movement, making mental notes for later.

When he was finally done, he stepped back and smiled to himself. Despite all the small adjustments still needed now that he’d seen it on the man, he had to admit that he’d outdone himself this time. And his mouth had gone dry as if to prove it. His eyes drifted up to Ritsu’s flustered expression. No, he really couldn’t see a single flaw.

It was at that point when he suddenly remembered the tea he’d set to steep before Ritsu had arrived. He waved for Ritsu to sit. “And now let us have some of my famous tea to celebrate your new confidence-inspiring attire! Just wait there and I shall return with sustenance!”

He heard Ritsu start to make a quiet sound of protest, but he’d already retreated to the adjoining kitchen before anything could come of it. Safely hidden behind the wall, out of sight, he let out a sigh. He hadn’t expected this to be quite so challenging - then again, it was his own fault, he supposed. A faint, rueful smile crossed his lips before he shook his head.

Having finally gained back some vestige of composure, he got to preparing a new batch of tea - it wouldn’t do to serve scalded tea to his guest after all. He let his mind wander back to Ritsu and the minor alterations he would need to make so that the ensemble was truly perfect as he warmed the teapot and cups and set the kettle to a simmer. He pulled the canister from the cabinet and poured in just enough for the two of them to have a cup, setting out the strainer and timer. All this done, he finally poured in the water and started the timer, putting the strainer on the first cup. A minute later it was full of gently steaming guricha, a moment after that the second joined it. He arranged the cups in a pleasant configuration on the tray before he straightened and affixed his usual grin to his face once more. This done, he glided into the room, tray held securely with one hand as he gestured with his other.

“Ah, Ricchan, you will simply _love_ my tea - after all, only three people—” The sight that greeted him halted Ayame and the flow of words in their tracks. “Ricchan?”

He’d expected one of the monkey’s nervous smiles, perhaps a stuttered apology. What he hadn’t expected was to find the younger man nearly bent double, features crumpled and wet as he tried not to make a sound through his tears. His arms were wrapped around himself as though trying to hold himself together, as though he might otherwise shake apart.

Ayame set the tray down carefully on the coffee table and came around to settle next to Ritsu on the couch. He didn’t dare touch him, though, his hand hovering over the man’s shaking shoulder. How quickly that seemingly unshakable confidence evaporated in the face of those tears.

“Ricchan? What’s wrong?”

The monkey shuddered and for a moment Ayame worried he’d transform. When he did finally speak, his voice was so small, so thin, “Th-the clothes - they’re so b-beautiful, Aya-niisan—” He broke off with another sob, one fist going to press against his mouth. “I-I don’t deserve them. . .”

Heart sinking, Ayame shook his head. “Of course you do, Ricchan! I made them especially for you!”

The words only seemed to worsen the monkey’s sobs, his whole frame trembling, a quiet wail escaping him and dying into a whimper. “I’m unworthy of such a gift! You should sew for someone who can wear them confidently, not a good-for-nothing like me.”

“You’re not a good-for-nothing.” Ayame’s usually lively, boisterous voice was suddenly quiet. Firm. Deadly serious.

Ritsu looked up through his bangs, eyes wide, uncertain and stunned at the sudden command.

“Don’t say such things about yourself,” Ayame continued, golden eyes piercing now as they locked on fawn. “You are worthy of all the gifts in the world.”

The monkey swallowed and Ayame felt his heart ache. “B-but. . .Aya-niisan. . .”

For a long moment, neither moved. Slowly, Ayame’s gaze softened and a small rueful smile curled the edges of his mouth. He sighed. “I should have known better - Gure-san and Tori-san, too.” He heaved himself to his feet, slower now, as though some of the energy had settled in him - a side few got to see. He crossed the room to the folded lavender fabric, running his fingers over the silk for a moment. “We shouldn’t try and make you into something you’re not.” He lifted the fabric and returned to Ritsu, dropping to one knee to hold it out to him. “Here, one more gift.”

“A-Aya. . .”

He shook his head, insistent in that quiet way. “Take it.”

Ritsu hesitated, brushing away the trails of tears down his cheeks before carefully taking the fabric. Despite the care, it tumbled free and Ritsu let out a soft exclaim. Then his eyes widened as he realized what he held.

The furisode was one of the most beautiful he had seen: understated, the designs simple but elegant. Koi twinned about the hem beneath a flowering bonsai, butterflies floating like sakura beneath it’s boughs - all in shades of red and a burnished gold that matched his hair. It must have taken days, countless hours.

Ritsu swallowed and looked up at the other man, breath caught in his throat. He looked so beautiful and Ayame couldn’t stop himself - he leaned forward, slow, and caught Ritsu’s lips in a gentle kiss. There was a moment of breathless fear, Ritsu’s lips frozen, then he felt it returned and warmth flooded him. He set a hand to the man’s cheek, letting the kiss linger.

When he at last pulled away, there was a brief sense of reluctance. He wore that same soft smile - reassuring now, rather than rueful. “You have always been beautiful, Ritsu,” he murmured. “Confidence will come, will blossom with time - but you don’t have to change yourself for it. A bud is still, after all, a blossom just waiting for the right time.”

This time when Ritsu smiled, there was a hint of comfort, of confidence.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed it! Let me know what you thought! Have I improved? Did I get too rusty? What did you like from it? Or not like? I love to hear from you!


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